


Hearts Like Ours

by cruelest_month



Category: Dragon Age (Comics), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Falling In Love, Fic Collection, M/M, Polyamory Negotiations, Romance, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-15 06:54:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4597071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruelest_month/pseuds/cruelest_month
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the beginning of Act II, Maevaris arrives in Kirkwall to visit her cousin-in-law, Varric. Hawke decides he must get to know her better along with his sort-of-boyfriend Anders. He knows he can make both of them very happy. But with friends, family, and all the steady sources of trouble, nothing is quite as easy as any of them would like it to be.</p><p>(series of short fics)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New Arrival

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TCRegan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TCRegan/gifts).



*

Hawke was… Miserable was not a good enough word for it. Not strong enough. Had he been a more academically-minded sort of person, Hawke would have been consulting his thesaurus for a better choice.

He ought to have been happy. He might have been but he had a mother and a brother who seemed determined to never allow him anything remotely resembling such a state of emotional well-being. Oh, and an uncle who was sure to stop by soon for more of the coins he didn’t deserve. 

“Beer helps more if you drink it,” Isabella pointed out.

“Oh? Will it magically take me back in time so I can slap some sense into Carver and murder Bartrand outright? And here I thought it was just the usual watered-down fermented wheat piss.”

Isabela rolled her eyes. “It’s to be one of those evenings, is it?”

“Most likely.”

“You could always leave.”

Hawke snorted. “And miss out on seeing Varric’s cousin? Never. If every member of his obnoxious family plans to stab me in the back at some point, I’d like to get it over with. Make it easy for them.”

“At least you have someone to blame for your woes.”

“Only a substantial handful of them,” Hawke lamented. “I can’t blame Bartrand for Carver.”

“Carver is—”

“My brother,” Hawke said glumly. “And an ornery son of a bitch. You know, he followed me around when we were little. Clung to me something awful. Then he stopped and you couldn’t keep him far enough away. And then years later, he wants to go somewhere. With me. But instead of taking him, I listened to my mother.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Isabela muttered. “You’re unbelievable, Hawke. Your brother is, well, to put it nicely, a twerp. Twerps aren’t born, they’re made. Usually by their terrible parents.”

“And lousy older brothers.”

“You know,” Sebastian said, voice rising in a pleasant lilt, “when I find myself in times of deep remorse and introspection—”

“You stare at your crotch and weep?” Isabella asked. “Beg Andraste for a good time?”

“I seek out ways to be alone. I focus on meditation and prayer,” Sebastian said in a stern tone. “Away from shallow, vapid, and tasteless individuals who belittle my attempts at self-improvement.”

“I don’t want to improve,” Hawke declared. “You can’t improve upon perfection.”

Both Isabela and Sebastian laughed because of course they did. 

Maker, but he wished for better friends. Or, at the very least, he’d have liked for someone else to be at the Hanged Man waiting for him. But it was always Isabela and Sebastian.

Anders was off in a hole somewhere healing some leper. 

Fenris was more than likely— and literally— kicking corpses around his house. 

Aveline was usually too busy for “this sort of thing.”

Merrill would show up at some point. Likely around the point in the evening when Hawke was about to leave. 

Varric would have wandered in by now if he wasn’t down at the docks.

Hawke would have traded most of them in for an upgrade or for a different sort of companion. One with more sympathy. The sort who sat in your lap and kissed you until you cheered up… All right, so he didn’t actually want just a friend at the moment. But he also didn’t want to frequent the same brothel as his uncle.

And he wouldn’t have traded Anders. Or Aveline seeing as she was the only one who seemed to be able to handle his mother. Or Fenris because Hawke understood why Fenris was not a particularly great friend. Or Varric… Or… Oh, he wouldn’t have traded any of them, not really. Although Isabella and Sebastian were still looking amused. And to think he’d been helping them both for quite some time now.

“What I should like is to feel sorry for myself without these constant interruptions and with some more attention.” Or heavy petting. But not with Isabela. And certainly not with Sebastian.

“Is he still being entirely unfun?” Merrill asked as she joined them.

“Worse than ever,” Isabella said. “There’s nothing to do besides ignore him, kitten.”

Merrill smiled as she looked the table over. “Varric’s cousin hasn’t arrived yet? Oh good! I’m on time then.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Hawke observed. 

“On time enough though,” Merrill cheerfully replied. “I was worried I’d miss her and I’d hate that. Do you think she’s pretty?”

Isabela grinned. “Depends on the sort of beard she’s got. Or the chest hair.”

Merrill made a face. “Dwarves don’t always have that, surely. I mean, they could choose to be less hairy. No offense, Hawke.”

Hawke frowned. “No offense me? I’m not a dwarf.”

“You’re hairy enough to be one.”

“Right. I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

Merrill blinked owlishly at him. “Why? It wasn’t meant as one.”

Isabela and Sebastian started laughing all over again.

Hawke crossed his arms and glared until they stopped. 

“Beards belong on men,” Sebastian pointed out with a shake of his head. 

Isabella smirked. “Where’s yours then?”

“Men who enjoy that sort of thing.”

“How very limiting your point of view must be.”

“Well, I hope she’s pretty,” Merrill said with a smile. “We have such pretty people and we might as well have another.”

Sebastian sighed. “Although it behooves us to remember that what a person looks like is not of any real consequences. As for our general level of attractiveness… I don’t know if that’s the reason we all spend so much time together.”

Hawke smirked. “It doesn’t hurt.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh, please. As if I would try to jump you with that chastity belt you’ve got on.”

“For the last time,” Sebastian said, “it’s not a chastity belt.”

“It would make me chaste awfully quick,” Hawke muttered.

Sebastian laughed because in spite of everything he did have a sense of humor. “Yes, well, that’s just more incentive to keep Andraste with me everywhere I go.”

“So your goddess lives in your belt then?” Merrill asked, glancing under the table. “How does she fit?”

“Poke her and find out,” Isabela suggested.

Unfortunately, if only because Sebastian was well on his way to turning a lovely shade of scarlet, that was when Varric came in. Or, rather, burst into the room. He tended to slam the door to the tavern open and shut as if he was just arriving at his own personal manor and wanted everyone there to know he was back. 

But then, Hawke mused, if you had to make entrances, why not make them grand?

Varric rolled his eyes as he glanced back over his shoulder. Whatever he said, Hawke couldn’t hear and honestly he didn’t care once he took note of the woman behind him. Varric’s cousin was quite pretty. She was also quite human.

*

Pretty and human, however, did not really do enough justice to the woman who’d just walked in. She was also pristine and beautiful and pale and smiling and all the other things women who were well above Hawke’s station in life tended to. She had blue eyes and short blonde curls and she looked absolutely nothing like Varric. 

_She’s exactly the sort of woman Varric has no business knowing_ , Hawke thought rather unkindly. _And the sort of woman I could stand to know much, much better._

Her traveling cloak was rather dusty along the hem. She was taking it off and folding it under one arm as they all sort of stared at her. Underneath, she wore a red dress with silver dragons embroidered on it. 

“That’s Varric’s cousin?” Sebastian all but blurted out.

“Oh, Hawke, you have to keep her,” Merrill insisted. “We’ll be so much prettier as a group if she stays.”

“She’s certainly from Tevinter,” Isabela said, looking slightly unhappy and baffled. “Why does he have a cousin in Tevinter?”

There were moments where Hawke wasn’t sure he was in control of what he said or what he did. This felt like one of those times because before he was really aware of getting up and going to the door, he was standing in front of it, smiling hopefully at Varric’s cousin. 

“Do you need help with anything?” This was not what Hawke wanted to say, but a good deal of what he wanted to say would more likely have earned him a sound slap to the face. “Anything at all?”

“I shouldn’t think so,” she said with a smile that was both forgiving and yet a bit dismissive. He couldn’t exactly blame her. “Thank you.”

Varric sighed heavily. “So, before he gets any weirder, this is Hawke.”

Her smile changed a bit as she considered Hawke. Her expression was a little friendlier now. “Oh. Well, then I still don’t need help, but how sweet of you to offer. Hello, Hawke.”

“Garrett Hawke.”

“Garrett then.”  
Varric scowled as Hawke beamed at her. “And this is my cousin, Maevaris Tilani.”

“Hello, Maevaris,” Hawke said, taking one of her hands in his. He kissed the back of it, pleased when she laughed. He was also rather amused when Varric made a grunting noise. The sort that men often made when someone they were close to was being flirted with right in front of them.

“Varric didn’t mention that you were so handsome,” Maevaris murmured.

“He didn’t say you were so pretty,” Hawke pointed out. “He actually didn’t say that much about you at all.” He wondered if Varric could see his way to making this whole visit the start of an arranged marriage. After all, what better reasons were there to have this pretty lady visit than to get her married?

“Uh huh. So she’s staying here. With me. Upstairs.”

Hawke frowned. Did Varric fail to recall the sort of scummy low lives who frequented the Hanged Man? “In this bullshit place? You can’t be serious. Er, sorry. Swearing like that… I shouldn’t.”  
But she simply smiled at him. “No need. Those are, I must admit, my sentiments exactly.”

“It’ll work out just fine,” Varric insisted rather firmly. He gestured for some men, who were most likely dock workers, to carry her suitcases, of which there must have been a dozen, upstairs.  
Hawke watched them with a keen sense of dismay and a determination to make sure those suitcases did not stay up there for long.

“You must be hungry,” he said, looking back at Maevaris. “The food here isn’t as bad as you might think.”

“I’m sure it will do,” she said with a shrug. “And really… I shouldn’t like to be too terribly difficult while I’m visiting.”

“Nonsense,” Hawke insisted. “Be incredibly difficult, I insist upon it. If the food here is bad, I have an excellent cook at my estate. Varric can bring you along or I can come get you myself. A cousin of Varric’s is a… um… well, hopefully not a cousin of mine but still. A friend and all that.” There was a pause and then he loudly added: “Or more. We can be more than friends.”

“Yeah, uh, Hawke,” Varric said, sounding a bit pained. “Go get her something to eat, okay? And coffee. Then go sit down.”

Hawke flashed Varric a rather wounded look.

“We’ll join you,” Varric assured him. 

Hawke reluctantly moved away, using a simple spell for eavesdropping as he ordered food. He got drinks and meals for Maevaris and Varric. Then he placed an order for himself and for Anders who had just strode in. The rest of them, Hawke felt, could find food elsewhere. At the bottom of a barrel for all he cared at that particular moment.

Behind him, Maevaris was chuckling.

Varric was sighing. “Good grief. He’s been brooding for weeks now and one look at you and he’s back to his usual goofy self. I’d apologize if you weren’t smirking like Wintersend arrived early.”

“He’s adorable and charming in what I assume is a very Ferelden sort of way.”

“He’s ridiculous.”

“You can’t possibly mind.”

“Well, no, but then he’s not three minutes away from proposing to me.”

“He’s just a bit enthusiastic. Or desperate, which one can hardly blame him for. I mean, look at the people here. Hardly the sort one takes home.”

That was all that Hawke needed to hear, so he snapped his fingers and marched back to the table. “It’s late. And you all really must be going. Such a shame.”  
Isabela rolled her eyes. “You don’t know the first thing about her. I, for one, need more information before I simply dash off.”

“Then hands off because I saw her first.”

“ _I_ saw her first actually,” Merrill pointed out.

Why did everything require some sort of discussion? “Hands off because I said so.” 

“Why is everything so very arbitrary here in these human cities?” Merrill muttered. “There’s positively no rule saying you get her because you say so.”

“There is now. Besides, you told me to keep her.”

“I meant around. Not to throw her over your shoulder and carry her off five minutes after meeting her.” But there was a glint in Merrill’s eyes that suggested she was very much hoping that would happen.

Hawke frowned thoughtfully. “Varric probably wouldn’t like that. And he has a crossbow.”

“She probably wouldn’t either,” Sebastian said. 

“Oh, she would,” Isabela said with a grin. “She would. And Hawke’s gentle in his way.”

Sebastian just shook his head. “Sit down, will you, Hawke? You’re flailing about like you’ve a disease or something.”

“A brain tumor perhaps,” Anders said, sitting down with them. “Or something along those lines. What’s happened?”

Merrill smiled. “Varric’s cousin.”

Anders rolled his eyes before glancing in the direction Merrill was indicating. Then he blinked, eyes narrowing slightly. “That’s her?”

“Yes.”

“Well, no wonder Hawke’s a bit manic,” Anders murmured. 

“Her name is Maevaris, and she’s really lovely,” Hawke said before he could stop himself. He had been trying to woo Anders without much luck. Or, well, there had been luck. A decent amount of it, in fact. But some days, Hawke thought it all verged on being utterly useless. 

They saw a lot of each other, and he knew Anders cared about him relatively as much as Hawke cared about Anders. But they were still at the point where they were exchanging brief quiet moments full of chaste kisses and longing looks. Perhaps it was Justice complicating matters, but it wasn’t just that. More often than not it was clinic business or mage-related troubles cropping up. Hawke understood that such matters needed to come first. Of course, he did, but he didn’t always like it. In fact, he never did.

“I’m sure she is,” Anders said, looking not at all concerned and not even glancing at Hawke. He was smiling at Maevaris who had just noticed him and was eying him with a friendly curiosity. Anders was a first-class brooder, but he always perked up a bit when someone was interested in him.

Their food still hadn’t arrived when Maevaris and Varric finally joined them at the table.

Hawke got up immediately and gave his chair to her before taking the one next to it. 

Varric sighed, finding his own seat. “So, I’m going to regret this… No, I already do. Anyway, here’s my cousin.” In a lower, hushed tone, he added: “Maevaris Tilani. Of Qarinus.”

“It’s not as if I’m traveling incognito,” Maevaris protested. “And before anyone asks, I do have the appropriate visas and my embassy is well aware of my arrival. As are your templars.”

“Visas?” Anders asked.

Maevaris bit her lip in a painfully attractive way, and Hawke forced himself not to wish he could give the others the sort of spectacle they’d come to expect from him. 

“I believe so? I honestly don’t know the exact title or phrase for it,” she said. “At any rate, it is something allowing me to linger here. You’re required to register and fill out a great deal of paperwork if you are an ‘unauthorized magic user.’ The negotiated terms for this particular holiday allow me to remain for a month with the understanding that extensions may be solicited and might be provided. It all depends, of course, on the whims of the Knight-Commander here. Or so it seemed. I don’t really understand the ridiculous way you do things here.”

“You had to go the Gallows then,” Anders said with a frown.

Maevaris nodded solemnly. “Briefly. What a garish place. I’d have given it a better name. Is it typical of the Circles here in the Free Marches?”

“Don’t you start,” Isabela said to Anders. “Hawke’s finally having a good night so no lectures.”

“I can explain later,” Anders offered, smiling at Maevaris. “It won’t be a lecture. Just a conversation between one unauthorized magic user to another.”

Maevaris smiled back. “I would like that.”

“I would too. I would also love to ask you some questions about your homeland if you’ve the time.”

“Well, I do enjoy talking about myself.”

Here they both laughed and eyed the other warmly and Hawke found himself extremely annoyed. He glowered at Anders who merely shrugged and smiled a bit more. Then their food arrived.  
“Would you like to join us, Hawke?” Anders asked as he accepted his plate. “He’s a mage as well, you know,” he added, looking at Maevaris. 

“I didn’t,” she admitted, offering Hawke a smile. “How perfect.”

“New subject,” Varric said. “This isn’t something we should talk about too much.”

“Yes, well, fine. Although it seems slightly idiotic,” Maevaris murmured, sipping her coffee. “Then again, it occurs to me I haven’t gotten anyone else’s names, and I’m sure that’s more interesting.”

Everyone went ahead and introduced themselves. Sebastian seemed to have decided he ought not to like her because she was a mage while the opposite was true for Anders. Isabela seemed to still be strangely conflicted. Merrill had no such issue and was chattering away almost instantly. Meeting Aveline and Fenris would and could most certainly wait. Aveline would find something to take offense to. Fenris would have difficulties with her immediately for the obvious reasons.

“Didn’t you have that thing to do?” Hawke prompted after allowing this for three minutes or thereabouts. 

“Thing?” Isabela asked.

“You have that thing on the boat. Merrill has that thing in the woods. Sebastian has that thing at the Chantry. Anders ought to stay but he most likely has that… clinic thing.”

Isabela rolled her eyes. 

Sebastian just shrugged. 

Merill, bless her, seemed to be trying to recall what thing she needed to do.

The human mage in question snorted. “Anders most certainly does not. I need a break, truth be told.”

“You run a clinic?” Maevaris asked.

Anders could not resist explaining what he did to her, which meant the others actually did rise to their feet and leave. A bit of good news that. However, it also meant Anders and Maevaris talked exclusively to each other as Hawke stabbed his potatoes with a fork. 

“Come on, Hawke,” Varric said. “We’re going to get drinks. Don’t go anywhere, Mae.”

“Of course not, dear.”

“Did you want anything?” Hawke asked her, pointedly ignoring Anders.

“Not unless there’s Arrack.”

“What’s that?”

“Something we have back home. Fermented sap from crystal grace and coconut flowers.”

Hawke shook his head. “If your tastes are so refined… I shouldn’t bother then were I you. Here there’s likely to be watered-down variations of better things found elsewhere.”

“If that,” Anders agreed.

Maevaris smiled. “Then I’ll manage without, thank you.”

“Fair enough.”

“If I visit you,” she began, sounding coy but looking slightly mischievous, “could I expect better drinks?”

Maker help him. “Anything you’d like,” Hawke managed. 

Maevaris laughed. “I’ll have to visit you tomorrow then.”

“That would be brilliant.” In fact that only downside to having her over was that he eventually had to let her leave. Although Hawke thought that rather depended on what Hawke did while she was with him.

Varric sighed heavily as he tugged Hawke to the bar. “So you just met her and I’m not going to try and weigh in too much here,” he said. “I know better than to try and tell you what to do. But she’s my cousin-in-law. She was married to my cousin. And now she’s a widow.”

“Not a recent widow.”

“It’s been a couple of years now. She loved him. He loved her. He died.”

Hawke frowned. “For a storyteller, Varric… That wasn’t much of a story.”

“It’s terrible, I know. And I know I made it sound…” Varric sighed. “I don’t like to think about Thorold too much. Makes me angry. Sad too. A guy like him deserved more than he got.”

“Outside of Maevaris.”

“They both did well there,” Varric agreed. “But the thing is, you can’t get all weird when she talks to other people. Not when you barely know her. And I thought you were all into Anders.”

“I am but… I mean, you know how little progress I’ve made and… Well, look at her.”

“I’ve seen her,” Varric pointed out. “More often than you have.”

“Is there a point to this?” Hawke asked, glancing back at the table. “Because if there’s not, Anders is slowly winning her over and I’d like to stop him.”

“At least this means your guy and your girl get along,” Varric observed.

“Neither one of which are actually mine,” Hawke lamented. 

“Not yet.”

“Want to bet on how long it’ll take me to win over one of them? I’m hoping that I could get her in a fortnight. I’m not sure about him though. Anders is—”

“Hawke,” Varric interrupted. “Hawke, you are a good friend. Ish. Sometimes. So I’m trying to cut you some slack here, but she’s family. She’s not some trophy that I’d like to watch you collect.”

“Right,” Hawke said. “Sorry. I won’t view it that way, I promise.”

“Good.”

“The truth is, I want far more than that,” Hawke continued. “Infinitely more.”

Varric winced. “Yeah, okay. That’s great. Could you not talk to me about it? Ever?”

“Oh. Sure.” Hawke paused for a moment. Then he said: “Just to be clear… If I wanted tips on wooing her—”

“I’d have to stab you in the leg. Or shoot you in the foot.”

“I see. And as far as your blessing—”

“Blessing for?”

Hawke just smiled.

Varric made a face. “Are you kidding me with this? Be serious, Hawke. You just met her.”

“I am being serious. It would be a great match and then we’d be family too. You need that.” 

“I think that might literally be the last thing I need.”

Hawke frowned. “That’s not fair. I’m from a very good magical family. I’ve just come into my own and into quite a bit of money and she’s what? Queen of Tevinter?”

“She is not…” Varric sighed. “There is no Queen of Tevinter. There’s some old guy called an Archon.”

“No Queen _yet_ ,” Hawke corrected. “And so the blessing…”

“Isn’t exactly forthcoming. You might never get it. And you’re definitely not going to get it asking me for it before you’ve learned five actual facts about her.”

“You said you weren’t weighing in or telling me what to do.”

“I guess,” Varric said, picking up his beer, “I lied.”

*

“You poor man,” Maevaris was saying as they got back from the table. Her hand was resting on Anders. “You must be exhausted, but you’re so brave to look after so many people and with so little support.”

“I do what I can. I’m also working on a manifesto. Conditions here in Kirkwall are intolerable.” 

“I can only imagine.”

The “poor man” was affecting his usual melancholy air but there was a smugness about him that made Hawke want to hit him. Lightly, but significantly. What an utter bastard. Still, pouring beer over Anders’ head was not a smart move for a large number of reasons. 

“Hello again, Garrett,” Maevaris said, looking up at him. Whether she was taking pity on him or not, Hawke didn’t care. 

“Hello again, Maevaris,” Hawke said, sitting back down next to her. “You can just call me Hawke if you like.”

“You can just call me Mae. Only I don’t think you will.”

“I don’t think so either,” he admitted. “I like your full name.”

“And I like yours. So, I’ve heard about Anders and I know what my cousin does… What is it you do?”

Shit. Hawke blinked, sitting down and setting his drink on the table in front of him. He did a lot of things, but he wasn’t sure what good it would do to tell her about them. He was hardly as noble or brave or selfless as Anders. Lately he’d felt like a constant disappointment, and he didn’t want to be one again. Not with someone he’d just met. 

“Oh, Hawke,” Anders said gently, “surely you’re going to tell her about yourself. It’s not as if she’ll be disappointed.” 

“Well , of course not,” Maevaris said, sounding slightly offended on her own behalf. 

“He’s a remarkable person,” Anders added. “Honestly. He’s helped a great deal of people in Kirkwall and the areas surrounding it. He’s even helped in my clinic.”

Hawke smiled, feeling his heart swell as it always did when Anders talked about him. He was particularly touched that Anders didn’t point out that Hawke had been banned from helping for a month after he’d accidentally started a fire trying to prepare more health potions.

“Hawke is basically a folk hero,” Varric cheerfully informed his cousin. “A legend in the making. When he’s not trying to restore order to Kirkwall and aid those less fortunate than himself, he’s helping princes avenge the murder of their loved ones. When he’s not doing that, he’s clearing the mountain passes of Tal-Vashoth by day and the seedy, silent streets of bandits by night. If anyone needs something done, nine and a half times out of ten they seek out Hawke.”

“Really,” Maevaris said. She seemed amused but also, thankfully, a tad impressed.

Hawke shrugged. “I don’t know if I’m as heroic as all that. I’ve mainly been a mercenary. Then recently an adventurer. And lately I suppose I’ve been trying to make this city a bit better while still earning coin much to my mother’s dismay. And my brother’s. Only I don’t care as much. He’s a templar.”

“A source of great consternation, I’m sure.”

“Yes, but then… He has been since birth.”

She laughed, putting her hands on him. One of her hands covered his own, and then other fit neatly under his palm. “I’m sorry for that, but pleased to hear you’ve done so well for yourself. All of that and you’ve an estate and so many friends.”

“True,” Hawke admitted. “Only…”

“Only.”

“There are some areas in need of improvement.” _A woman’s touch_ , he wanted to say. Only he didn’t because he doubted Varric would approve.

“Oh?”

“Speaking of improvement, I’m not going to be much use tomorrow if I don’t get some sleep,” Anders said. “Neither will you, Hawke.”

“I suppose it is rather late,” Maevaris said, glancing at Varric. “I forget what the time difference is.”

“We’re a few hours ahead.”

“What a shame,” she said, rising to her feet. “Still, it was lovely to meet the pair of you. I should like to see you again soon.”

“Tomorrow,” Hawke said loudly in a near-shout before clearing his throat. “That is… I mean, come over for breakfast. Tomorrow. Anders does.”

“And if that’s not an incentive, he can come up with one,” Anders suggested. 

Maevaris laughed. “Until tomorrow then. I can’t scarcely think of a better incentive than both of you being in the same place at the same time.”

“I can,” Varric assured her. “Come on, Mae, let’s go see what you think of your room.”

“Nothing good, one imagines,” Maevaris admitted but she followed him to the staircase. 

“She’s rather perfect,” Anders observed once they were outside of the Hanged Man. 

“Yes,” Hawke agreed, taking Anders hand in his. They had yet to do much of anything, but they did hold hands and Hawke would escort him to Darktown before heading home. 

“I’ve never met a mage like that before. She’s… I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Nor have I because I think I know what you mean. And… Thank you for what you said. About what I do.”

“It’s simply the truth, Hawke.”

“You’re sure you need to stay in that dreary clinic?”

“For now, yes. There is much… There is still a good deal that requires my urgent attention.”

“I could come up with something better for you to focus on.”

“I know that you could, but this is important to me. We’ve discussed this and the need to wait a bit longer. Besides, I have several sick patients that can’t make do without me at the moment.”

“There are times when I barely can.”

“Even with this perfect, pretty mage Varric brought for us?”

Hawke grinned. “It is sort of like he brought her for us, isn’t it?”

“I doubt seeing it that way will win her over,” Anders pointed out. “Still, you’re right. It might be nice. Having her with us. She’s very clever and charming. I’d like to see what she can do.”

“What I like about her isn’t what I like about you,” Hawke added. “And I don’t think she negates you or the way you make me feel. We could share, and we could make it work. I’ve got a big heart.”

“I’ve noticed,” Anders said, squeezing Hawke’s hand. “The way I feel about you… It’s baffling to know you feel the same way, but I know that you do.”

Uh huh. “Then you also know what they say about big hearts.”

“Dare I ask?”

“Big hearts means lots of blood easily circulating to other places. Places that are further south and also significantly large.”

Anders just rolled his eyes.

They continued on to Darktown, running out of things to say just as they both ran out of energy. It had been that sort of day, for the most part.

His escort mission over, Hawke got a light peck on the cheek for his troubles. It felt better than any amount of coin might have, but it wasn’t enough. He tried for more, sighing when Anders’ hand covered his mouth for half a second. Anders smiled apologetically, kissing Hawke’s temple. Then Anders slipped into his clinic and ought of sight.

And despite having a big heart, or perhaps because of it, Hawke trudged off home alone.

*


	2. A Trip to the Coast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place a little further down the road once Mae, Hawke, and Anders are starting to figure out their relationship. Originally posted to tumblr.

*

The trek had been Hawke’s idea and while he was excited to get to their destination, he was a bit anxious about what he’d left there. He hoped everything was hidden well enough to keep from being tampered with. All this walking and all his potential showing up warranted a snack or two. 

Anders rubbed his eyes every now and then. He occasionally gave Hawke the occasional significant look of displeasure but he kept moving. The fresh air would do him good even if proper sleep would have done him better. It was the mage’s own fault for stubbornly living in a sewer instead of Hawke’s manor. But that would change. Hawke was angling for it and Maevaris was close to insisting upon it.

Maevaris yawned on occasion but she never voiced a real complaint. She did seem, however, to be eyeing the Wounded Coast in a rather judgmental way. 

“Well,” she murmured at one point, “it does rather live up to its name, doesn’t it?”

“Quite,” Hawke agreed. “But it’s this or… well… It’s this. And that’s about it.”

“And do all mages hike to remote locations to practice magic?”

“Mages are mainly in Circles,” Anders quietly pointed out. 

It wasn’t his first time doing so, but he seemed willing to repeat himself. His tone, Hawke noted, lacked none of the bristling defensiveness that so often cropped up when conversing with Fenris. Or… 

No. No. No and sincerely no. He didn’t want to think about Carver. Not unless he was picturing the little twat was getting his arse kicked across a training ground by Cullen. 

“So because templars are trained to do all sorts of outlandish skills, we’re out here where we might to contend with bandits and smugglers instead?” 

“We can handle it,” Hawke assured her.

“Considering what you already put up with? I’ve no doubt.” 

“I have a feeling you wouldn’t.”

Maevaris smiled thinly. “Your feeling might be on to something. But what I don’t understand is why more mages aren’t doing something their lot here. There’s so many more of them than there are templars.”

“Fear is a powerful weapon,” Anders said.

“Then mages ought to follow your lead. They ought to wield that weapon rather than be subject to its whim… But I’d rather not ruin whatever Garrett has planned so I suppose I ought to quit while I’m still ahead.”

“Later.”

“Of course.”

Hawke made an effort not to roll his eyes. He appreciated how close Anders and Maevaris were becoming, but he rather wished they didn’t while away the hours talking over tea and making eyes at each other. He spent time with them because of course he did but once they ran out of biscuits and it became quite clear that suggesting they all make out was going to be met with some mild scorn, Hawke excused himself.

Anders could have probably listened to her speak on any topic for great length but mage rights, Tevinter, and the Maker seemed to be the chief focus. Boring as fuck, really. 

The nice part of it was he had a lot of time to spend with Fenris. They patrolled and talked around the … Well, she wasn’t an elephant. The pretty blue bird who tried to avoid being in the same room as the very angry wolf? 

It was difficult, really, to gauge how Fenris felt outside of prickly and angry like a miserable, glowy hedgehog. Or, rather, it was difficult to tell what parts of how Fenris felt were mutable and which parts weren’t subject to any sort of change whatsoever. Fenris quite loathed her but it didn’t seem personal in that it didn’t seem to be based on any sort of incident. It was her title that offended. Her way of life even if she didn’t speak much about it.

So far the issue hadn’t actually interfered with quests or missions, but Hawke imagined it would at some point. It was difficult having to constantly decide what sort of companionship he wanted on any particular day. Did he want everyone who had issues with mages? Everyone who had issues with templars? Everyone who hated blood magic? Should he take the ones without much of a moral compass to speak of? Decisions, decisions. And it was even more difficult without fucking useless Carver.

“What we need is the distraction you’ve planned,” Maevaris said, taking Hawke’s hand in hers. “Whatever is going on in that handsome head of yours?”

“Just considering the week ahead,” Hawke told her, squeezing her hand. “Party formations and such.”

She shook her head. “They aren’t children, you know.”

“Not exactly children anyway.”

“A difference of opinion is healthy, Garrett. Arguments and bickering is too. You shouldn’t shelter people from that. You can’t, really. Striving to do so just creates even more problems later on. Precisely the ones you were hoping to avoid. It’s what leads to weird assassination attempts and passive-aggressive invites to gruesome parties.”

“Speaking from experience?”

She smiled warmly. “Yes.”

“I have a hard time picturing someone wanting to assassinate you.”

“Oh, it only happens once every few years or so,” she said with a shrug. “Half-hearted efforts. Warnings of a sort. You can’t become a Magister without making a few enemies.”

“Or breaking them.”

Maevaris laughed. “You’ve no idea.”

“But I’d like to,” Hawke murmured. “So… Assassinations and terrible parties are why you’re on vacation?”

“I wish it were as simple as all that. No. Part of it was a friend pointing out that I tend to I get a bit broody this time of year. And another part of it is Varric being such a dreadful cousin.”

“But not the worst?”

“His toad of a brother is the worst. You have that in common.”

“Carver’s hardly in the same league,” Hawke said automatically. He believed it, of course. It was, thankfully, true. And he had always felt he could pick on his brother and everyone else did so at their own peril. 

“True. Yours isn’t so boorish, I’d wager. At any rate, Varric is not consistent when it comes to correspondence. Hardly a letter and he’s a writer. Entirely unacceptable. So I needled a bit and needled some more and he invited me to visit.” 

Anders chuckled. “Of his own free will.”

Maevaris smiled at him. “Exactly.” She stopped walking, frowning slightly. “Oh. I rather doubt this is your distraction, Garrett, but we do seem to have a few...friends.”

Hawke blinked, scanning the jagged rocks around them.

“Tal-Vashoth. If you look to your right near the sad-looking tree, you’ll see one of them. I suppose it’s just as well. The dismal beaches and the stale sea wasn’t doing much for me.”

Hawke could have done without the interruption but he thought that if nothing else he ought to clear this part of the coast out. If only because their presence had forced Maevaris to let go of his hand.

Hawke glanced at Anders. “I suppose the thing to do is--” 

There was a loud thud and a crackling, sizzling sound from behind them. 

Maevaris had decided to deal with them on her own, it seemed. There were growls and groans as storm spell moved from warrior to warrior. She summoned up another spell and all but hurled it at them.

Anders smirked. “There might not be much left to do if we discuss it.”

There was quite a bit of flair to Maevaris’ magic. Dramatic hand gestures and the like. She didn’t seem to need or want a staff, curling her fingers instead and summoning circle of blue magic and wounding several warriors. He supposed it made sense for them to run away. She was clearly toying with them and inflicting considerable damage as she did so.

When she didn’t seem inclined to pursue them, Hawke chased after them letting Anders provide barriers and healing as needed. Maevaris followed his lead, of course, providing rather destructive spells every so often. Some combination of Force and Spirit and Storm? Hawke wasn’t entirely sure.

Several Tal-Vashoth got away. Several did not. And if Hawke used his staff as a spear on more than one occasion… Well, it was a bad habit of his. And he wanted to show off. Impress her even a little bit. A feat that seemed a bit more difficult than it had an hour ago.  
She seemed only vaguely winded, one manicured hand resting on a hip as she watched the rest dash off. 

Hawke made an effort to curl in on himself, leaning against his staff as he caught his breath. At that moment, he felt very much like the country bumpkin he’d always been. And if there was one league he was entirely out of it, it had to be Maevaris’.

“I couldn’t help myself,” she explained. “I rather wanted to impress you.”

“Oh, he’s impressed,” Anders assured her. He sounded cheerful, which was nice because Hawke enjoyed Anders being happy. However, it was also mildly annoying at the moment . “Aren’t you, Hawke?”

Hawke frowned at him, stifling a small wheeze. “Quite.”

Maevaris grinned. “I made an effort not to dash too far ahead for your sakes. You Southern mages love to hang back.”

“Healer,” Anders pointed out. He moved closer to her, tilting her head to the side with just a few fingers resting against her chin. There was some flecks of blood on her neck, but it didn’t seem to be her own. 

Maevaris patted Anders’ hand. She laughed when he kissed her. “You’re very sweet, but I’m fine.”

“Defensive spells,” Hawke managed. “They require a bit of distance.” 

“The best defense is a good offense.” She glanced down at her nails. “Hm. I didn’t hit anything, which is a shame. I rather enjoy that part of a fight.”

 _Just what sort of mage are you?_ Hawke wanted to ask, but he didn’t. He felt vaguely jealous. She’d been trained properly. Taught that magic was something you were and ought to use. That it was physical in additional to metaphysical. Or something along those lines. 

He straightened up, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders. It wasn’t surprising when Anders approached, ready to look him over. Hawke leaned into Anders’ touch, appreciating the gentle pat to his beard. And then the kiss on his cheek.

“You aren’t mad at me?” Maevaris asked. She was biting at her lip as she considered both of them. “I’m rather used to handling trivialities such as this on my own. But I do realize I forgot about the whole team dynamic. You being in charge and all.”

Hawke scoffed. He was jealous of her skills because who wouldn’t be but he was hardly put out by her being competent. And it was awfully difficult imagining her in any real danger considering what had just happened. If anything this made him like her all the more even as it made him worry that he wasn’t the sort of man or mage she’d be interested in. “Mad? No. I hardly think you need someone to be in charge of you.”

That appeared to have been the right thing to say. Maevaris nodded, relaxing her shoulders.

Hawke rubbed at the blood on the back of his hands before approaching her. “I’d like to fight alongside you next time, however. If you can slow down just a little bit. We don’t all zip about like a half-mad hummingbird strung out on lightning runes.”

She laughed at his slightly scolding tone. And smiled as he kissed her lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I want to learn to do what you did,” Hawke said, setting his hands on her waist. “Those spells,” he added, kissing her again. “We should spar.”

She kissed his lips gently. “Oh, Garrett,” she murmured. She looked amused as though he’d said something particularly and adorably foolish. “I’ll show you, of course but… I think sparring would be a little unfair.” 

Hawke grinned. “Unfair? Well, I know I’m quite something to behold but I’d hold back.”

Maevaris laughed. “Unfair because I’d clobber you.”

Hawke frowned at this rather accurate observation. He glanced over at Anders, hoping for some sympathy.

“She’s not wrong,” Anders pointed out. 

He’d been watching them but he seemed pleased if a little contemplative. He had an odd tendency to maintain a bit of distance during times like these. It made some sense. So much seemed to go wrong for Anders that he had to enjoy some things. He didn’t get very jealous. But part of Hawke suspected the other mage thought it would be better if Hawke had someone else. And Hawke often wished that Anders would stop deciding that observing was often better --or sometimes safer-- than participating.

“Thanks for the boost to my morale,” Hawke muttered. “You could come over here, you know.”

“Even after agreeing with her?”

“Especially after,” Maevaris said coaxingly. “Garrett doesn’t mind.”

Hawke grinned, satisfied when they were both all but in his arms. “I can’t do anything about it even if I did,” he said, doing his best to kiss away whatever lingering doubts Anders seemed to be holding onto. “She’d beat me up.”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This short fic might move around slightly just in terms of keeping everything in chronological order, but I've had this one finished for months so I'm posting it now. I'm hoping to finish up another one from Mae's POV in the near-future and then another one from Hawke's.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm pretty much just gifting most fics I write to TCRegan. Especially the ones that are her fault. In the best way possible, obviously. But I'll also thank BakaKnight for being so supportive of all my nonsense. <3
> 
> Anyway, Love Me and Mend will still continue at some point, but lately I've been really, really missing Hawke. But I've also been missing Maevaris and Anders. So compromise. Or, rather, new fic for now. I suspect that some sections will end up being Maevaris' POV. Possibly Anders' later on.


End file.
